March 12, 1910.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
411 
the way we came and toward the doctor. Ihree 
times I started to wind up that bear and three 
times I stopped, hesitated and looked at my gun. 
The sun pointed to about 4 p. m. 1 he doctor 
was four or five miles away; I knew he‘would 
enjoy the final show down with her that was 
sure to come. I suppose it was the most sensi¬ 
ble and healthy thing I ever did when I left the 
bear track and broke into a jog trot down across 
the valley to go to the doctor. I found him 
watching the horses, and the dogs went to greet 
him. I shall never forget his question, “What 
have you been shooting your dogs for ? And 
then I noticed they were covered with blood. 
I told him that the bear had found us, that 
I had had to climb and the dogs to run, but I 
thought with his help we could bag her yet. He 
was with me if there was bear gore in sight, 
and- mounting our horses we made good time 
and rode across the river. As the sun was 
about down we picked up the bear track, still 
coming back toward her range of the early 
morning. She was bleeding some and would 
paw out large holes in the soft earth and snow, 
roll in them for a short time and then go on a 
little further. I told the doctor we would have 
to fight, and he said it was what he had been 
aching for all day. I was rather nervous and 
assured him that following a wounded grizzly 
in timber that was plenty thick in places was 
about the most serious business on the face of 
the earth. Before I had sent any lead into her, 
she was a fighting bear, and now she would 
attack any living thing she laid eyes on. “Bring 
on your bear,” said the doctor; “turn her loose, 
I don’t care how big or how bad you have ’em.” 
Looking ahead into a small park I saw the trail 
go to an elk wallow, evidently for a drink. 
Rolling my eyes in all directions I saw the bear 
lying under a large spruce with her head turned 
from us, barely sixty feet away. A dog barked, 
and out of the flying pine needles came the bear 
like a bull terrier fleeing from a tomcat. The 
doctor’s rifle spoke and the bear fell, but spring¬ 
ing to her feet again she came on us like a 
charging bull. I fired and as I attempted to 
step aside my feet slipped and I fell. 
“Shoot, doctor, shoot,” I yelled, for I could 
feel her breath and see her shining ivories. 
Again the doctor’s rifle roared close to my ' 
ear and the bear fell with her front legs and 
mine tangled up together. My gun had closed; 
it was one of the old kind with a safety catch 
and a crooked stock. The bear was still strug¬ 
gling and snapping her teeth, or I thought she 
was, and as soon as I could free and work 
the lever, I commenced to pump lead into the 
carcass. 
“Don’t spoil my hide; don’t spoil my hide,” 
shouted the doctor. I was now badly scared 
and was heating that old rifle hot. The doctor’s 
care for the hide brought me to, and as I dis¬ 
engaged my legs and backed off with arms pre¬ 
sented, I was about as thankful and as grate¬ 
ful as it is possible for mortal to feel. 
In the gathering twilight we silently shook 
hands and the doctor’s smile of satisfaction as¬ 
sured me that we had won. With his help I 
rolled the bear over on her back and took out 
the entrails, as he was particular the hide should 
not be spoiled, and as it was too dark to skin 
it there, we left it till morning. It was late 
when we rode into camp hungry and happy, but 
not tired. Your successful hunter never is tired, 
but he can make the other fellow tired listening 
to his tale of joy. 
The hunter standing on the mountains and 
looking eastward over the great plains, which 
once were black with game, sees here and there 
on the brown bunch grass of the prairie a bright 
green spot. With a good glass he can see the 
smoke of a settler’s chimney. If he rides much 
on the prairie it will be on wagon roads along 
fences of barbed wire. He will point to some- 
ranch and say, “Here is where I camped long 
ago for a week; there I killed a buffalo, here 
an elk.” Now, along all that stream he will 
find not a camp ground. 
Each quarter section is rapidly being taken up 
by someone wanting a home, and the day is riot 
far distant when Uncle Sam will sit with folded 
arms and say, “My children, I have no more 
land to give.” The national parks and forest re¬ 
serves will be the nation’s only camp ground of 
the future. If in my old age I can camp where 
my horse can graze without trespassing, and I 
can fish without toll, I shall indeed be thankful. 
End of the Wild Buffalo in Colorado 
Denver, Colo., Feb. 26 . —Editor Forest and 
Stream: From the earliest settlement of Colo¬ 
rado up to 1897 there were in Lost Park, near 
Bison Peak in Park county, Colorado, a small 
herd of wild buffalo. They had been protected 
and cared for by the ranch and cattle men of 
that country and were frequently found running 
with the cattle. The herd numbered twenty or 
thirty. 
Occasionally, however, some vandal would kill 
one, and the increase was less than the losses, 
until in the spring of 1897 there were but four 
left, two bulls, one cow and one calf. These 
were all killed in February, 1897, the killing be¬ 
ing done for the purpose of mounting, the entire 
skeletons being carefully preserved. 
They were concealed so well that the game 
commissioner of the State could find no suffi¬ 
cient evidence of the act, or of the whereabouts 
of the property until 1901. In that year the 
commissioner got sight of them and criminal in¬ 
formation was filed against the parties who were 
presumed to have killed them, and also against 
two taxidermists by the name of Bartlett, in 
whose possession the hides and skeletons were 
found. 
There were two trials, in each of which the 
evidence was conclusive of both killing and pos¬ 
session, but by misconstruction of the game law 
and general mismanagement by the State authori¬ 
ties, the defendants were acquitted in both cases. 
Upon being discharged in the last case, the de¬ 
fendants asked an order for the return of the 
hides and skeletons, which the court, recognizing 
and commenting on the manner in which the 
cases had been handled and the certain guilt of 
the defendants, refused to grant, but ordered the 
sheriff to take and retain the property in his cus¬ 
tody until further order of the court. 
Soon thereafter the game commissioner com¬ 
menced a suit for the possession of the hides 
and skeletons. This suit hung fire for some 
time, and for reasons of which I am not fully 
advised, the case was finally dismissed by the 
commissioner, but the hides and skeletons re¬ 
mained in the possession of the sheriff. 
In October, 1903, the Bartletts, who claimed 
them, began a replevin suit against the sheriff 
in whose custody the property was. At the re¬ 
quest of the game commissioner I assisted the 
district attorney to defend the case for the 
sheriff and the State. The case was tried in 
April, 1905, and upon the evidence of the plain¬ 
tiff being closed, and on our motion, the court 
instructed the jury to bring in a verdict for the 
defendant, the sheriff. 
The Bartletts took an appeal to the Supreme 
Court of the State, and a short time ago that 
court affirmed the decision of the court below. 
The hides and skeletons are still in the posses¬ 
sion of the sheriff, and will soon be sold under 
the order of the court. 
These hides and skeletons have been carefully 
preserved, and a recent examination shows them 
to be in perfect order. When mounted they will 
constitute a perfect family of buffalo, one old 
bull, one cow, one yearling bull and one calf, 
and it is expected that they will bring a good 
price at the sale. 
This marks the end, so far as I know, of the 
last wild buffalo in Colorado, and perhaps in the 
United States. D. C. Beaman. 
[There still exists within the borders of the 
Yellowstone National Park a small herd of buf¬ 
falo that have never been under fence and are 
truly wild. It is the last of the old herd of bison 
that lived in the rough mountains from Aibeita 
south nearly to New Mexico.—E ditor. j 
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